


sweater weather

by victoriousscarf



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25818502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: Bruce was going to protest. He was going to protest just as soon as he got his breath back.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 14
Kudos: 112





	sweater weather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [obstinatelybored](https://archiveofourown.org/users/obstinatelybored/gifts).



> Tumblr prompt "Person A is cold so they take Person B’s sweater while they’re out. Person B comes back and finds Person A asleep."

Bruce was going to protest. He was going to protest just as soon as he got his breath back. 

But instead he found himself standing in front of the couch in his office, newspaper in one hand and mug of coffee in the other, staring down at Dick sprawled out over the whole surface of it. For someone who was always perfectly aware of himself and his body when he was awake, Dick gave it all up the instant he fell asleep. Instead of his usual economy of motion he threw all his limbs out, flailing around and shifting constantly in the middle of the night. 

Now he turned his head, burrowing it tighter against the couch’s throw pillow and Bruce’s eyes were again caught by the way his sweater was too big for Dick, falling open and revealing his collarbone and Bruce was still just standing there, gathering the strength to protest that Dick had stolen one of his sweaters. 

How long had he been just standing there? 

After another second, Dick finally rolled over and woke up. “Ah,” he said, voice heavy with sleep. “Bruce.”

“Dick,” Bruce cleared his throat. “That’s, um, my sweater,” and the “um” was damning. The pause in his usual precise and clipped sentences spoke more volumes than anything he could have ever said. 

And Dick caught it, because his eyes lit up and he held his arms out, Bruce’s sleeves hanging off them. “I got cold,” he said, smiling like his mouth held a secret and Bruce set the coffee mug down too hard, and didn’t bother to even get the newspaper on the desk before he was sinking down onto the couch, Dick wrapping his arms around him.

“It’s still my sweater,” Bruce said, sinking into him. 

“It smells like you,” Dick said. “And I really _was_ cold.” 

“I’m going to need it back,” Bruce said, but all the sternness had leaked out of his voice, feeling Dick’s laugh puff against his own mouth.

“I’ll think about it,” Dick said, dragging one arm down his back and Bruce gave up, nuzzling their mouths together, soft and insistent, because he usually didn’t allow this for himself. No matter how much it brought a smile to Dick’s face, Bruce always felt the same thrill of terror whenever he let himself let go around Dick. 

That was probably why Dick stole the sweater, he admitted. Trying to goad him into this soft gentleness. 

Maybe he should let Dick keep it, he thought, thoughts going frantic and soft at the edges as Dick’s hands twined in his hair and his mouth opened up beneath him. 


End file.
